carried much valuable information in his head and Von Halwig's
well-filled note-book in his pocket. He hung back while the embracing
was in progress. Then Irene introduced him to her family.

"You'll dine with us, Arthur," she said simply. "I'll not tell them a
word of our adventures till you are present."

"You could have heard a pin drop," was the excited comment of the
flapper sister when endeavouring subsequently to thrill another girl
with the sensation created by Irene's quiet words. Literally, this trope
was not accurate, because the station was noisier than usual.
Figuratively, it met the case exactly.

Lady Glastonbury, a gray-haired woman with wise eyes, promptly emulated
the action of the British army during the retreat from Mons, and "saved
the situation."

"Of course you'll stay with us, too, Captain Dalroy," she said with
pleasant insistence. "Like Irene, you must have lost everything, and
need time to refit."

Dalroy murmured some platitude, lifted his hat, and only regained his
composure after two narrow escapes from being run over by taxis while
crossing Northumberland Avenue.

A newsboy tore past, shouting in the vernacular, "Great Stand by Sir
John French."

Dalroy was reminded of Smithy, and Shiney, and Corporal Bates. He saw
again Jan Maertz waving a farewell from the quai at Ostend. He wondered
how old Joos was faring, and Leontine, and Monsieur Pochard, and the
cure of Verviers.

Another boy scampered by. He carried a contents bill. Heavy black type
announced that the British were "holding" Von Kluck on the Marne.
Dalroy's eyes kindled. _His_ work lay _there_. When the soldier's task
was ended he would come back to Irene.

CHAPTER XV

"CARRY ON!"

After a few delightful days in London, Dalroy walked down Whitehall one
fine morning to call at the War Office for orders. Irene went with him.
He expected to be packed off to France that very evening, so the two
meant making the utmost of the fast-speeding hours. The Intelligence
Department had assimilated all the information Dalroy could give, had
found it good, and had complimented him. As a Bengal Lancer, whose
regiment was presumably in India, he would probably be attached to some
cavalry unit of the Expeditionary Force; from being an hunted outlaw,
with a price on his head, he would be quietly absorbed by the military
machine. Very smart he looked in his khaki and brown leather; Irene, who
one short week earlier deemed _sab